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The director stormed up,“What the fuck’s going on here?” He demanded.“I can’t work in front of this photographer,” Mum sighed. She didn’t say it in a nasty way, for which I was slightly relieved.“Why not?” he demanded.“Because she’s my mother,” I said grumpily.There was a long pause.“Oh.”There was another long pause as the director mulled things over. He turned to Ade. “Can you do Stephie’s shots?”“Haven’t got my kit with me.”“Use Colin’s,” he snapped, then saw the look on both our faces. “What?”“We don’t loan,” I said. “I use Canon, he uses Nikon. They’re just as good as each other, but they’re very different. It would take Ade an hour to learn how to use my camera even close to properly. Plus, I’ll have mine set up differently to how he likes his set up.”“Surely they’ll be set up the same for the same shoot?”Ade shook his head. “Nope. Even on an identical camera, two photographers will set up their cameras different for the same shot.”“Well, work something out between you. We. "Television is a beast that consumes the minds and intellect of humans, It shall not have mine." I said turning to her, quoting one of my philosophes. "It's like you read my mind." she said, laughing as she sat on her plush couch. Her couch was on the wall parallel to the wall with the entertainment-center on it, leaving the window to the right open. To the left of the couch was a wall broken by a small open window, open for a bar. In the window as her kitchen, barely 10 square feet in the entire kitchen. Also on the wall with the window to the kitchen was a Queen sized bed, covered with down quilts and over stuffed pillows. As I sat down she stood up, lighting several candles around the room. She turned the electricty off and sat back down beside me. "I prefer to read by candle light." she said, taking up a book from the off side of the couch. She sat the book between the two off us. I put my hand on the spine of the book, and she laid her hand atop mine. With her forefinger and.
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